The Secret of the Sorcerer's Stone
by TheEvilPinkCupcake
Summary: They're all back. All their loved ones, and some of their not-so-loved ones. They're back, a day after the fall of Voldemort, to read books about Harry. They deserve to know the truth. And by reading these books detailing every moment from the time Harry found about about magic to his victory, they will know what really happened. [is a 'Characters Read the Books' story]
1. Prologue

**A/N **

**So I've wanted to do one of these for FOREVER but I never got around to it.**

**OH AND I DREW THE PICTURE MYSELF. ^^ Thoughts?**

**It's basically another one of those Character Reads the Books stories, but I'll try to make mine better. I don't really like the ones with just 'Everyone laughed.' every three paragraphs. Hopefully mine will be more detailed.**

**This will be canon, so it will be Romione, Jily, Hinny, Remadora, etc.**

**Disclaimer: Rights to JK Rowling.**

**Hope you enjoy guys :)**

**And this is just the prologue so they didn't start reading yet. ^^ Next chapter they will.**

**And oh, I'm going to try to actually get through till Deathly Hallows and not just stop in the middle of the first book, because I swear, that's what everyone does! D:**

**Enjoy again :)**

* * *

So many lives had been lost. Hundreds. Thousands. So many innocent people were gone because of one man who became drunk on power and the thought of eternal life simply because of a dark childhood.

But still, it was over. All over. Years and years and years of fighting, of resisting, had not been in vain, because Voldemort was gone. For good.

And now it was time to celebrate. The ruckus, the chaos in the Great Hall was deafening. It was so loud that when the giant double doors to the Great Hall opened, nobody noticed. It was not until the grand figure that had entered had coughed-a small, quiet cough-but nevertheless, everyone's attention was drawn to the wizard. And they were shocked. Very shocked.

How could they not be? This man was dead. Well, obviously he wasn't dead because he was standing right there. And he wouldn't come back as a ghost. So he was supposed to be dead.

He had the gift of keeping people quiet, and though his voice was hoarse, everybody heard it. "Hello, everyone."

"B-b-but…y-yo-you're DEAD!" someone stuttered.

"Yes. I am dead. Well, obviously I am not, but in a sense, yes, I am indeed non-living."

"But how?"

"That is not important. What is important, is reading these books." And with a flourish, Albus Dumbledore flicked his wand and seven books appeared, floating in midair with an air of mysterious ancientness.

* * *

Harry Potter was still in shock. He had looked up to this man for seven years of his life. Then he figured out his past—his dark secrets, the ones that had been locked in his heart for so many years. He had wanted to talk to Dumbledore—the real Dumbledore, not a two-dimensional painting on the wall. But nothing could raise the dead; yet, here he was, standing right in front of him, smiling like that fateful day on the Astronomy Tower had never happened.

Hermione Granger was in shock. She had read thousands—maybe even millions—of books, and had never heard of someone coming back from the dead. Not even Dumbledore. Not even the one everyone assumed was invincible. She, like the rest of the world, had looked up to him, the greatest wizard of all time, but when she found out about his past, she no longer placed him up on a pedestal. Instead, she realized that he had made mistakes. Just like her. Just like everyone else. But here he is again, and he had done what no one had ever done before, what was impossible, and for a few moments Hermione could see the Albus Dumbledore the way she did before, in his shining glory and omniscience.

Ron Weasley was still in shock. If he had not been, however, he would have exclaimed, "Honestly! We just saved the bloody world, and you want us to read books?!"

Neville Longbottom was still in shock. He had been overjoyed when Harry 'came back from the dead', and now his old headmaster was coming back too? Are all the dead people going to turn alive again?!

Ginny Weasley was still in shock. She wasn't close to Dumbledore, she hadn't been in on any secrets, and she wasn't as smart as Hermione. But she knew that resurrection was impossible. What was going on then?

* * *

Luna Lovegood was not in shock. She never was. She smiled and waved, "Hello, Professor!"

Dumbledore smiled and nodded, "Hello Luna."

There was a silence.

Dumbledore went on, "Well, onto the reading then?"

The Great Hall burst into questions, exclamations, and confusion.

"What! You have to explain!"

"You're dead!"

"What reading?"

"Can't we rest first? Or eat? We just saved the world for Merlin's sake!" (That was Ron if you couldn't guess already.)

"Silence!" Dumbledore raised his hands.

Everyone fell quiet.

"These are books. Books about Harry." Faces turned to look at him, and the Boy-Who-Lived felt his cheeks turning red. "They go through his lifetime, from the moment he discovered magic, to where he is now. It contains the truth—the full truth. I think that the people deserve to understand, they should know." He concluded, staring at Harry.

If he had expected an outburst, he was wrong. This last year had changed him. Dumbledore could see that now. Harry was no longer the hormonal teenage boy who was easily angered—now he could see that he had matured, he had finally taken charge, grown up, learned to sacrifice everything.

It saddened him. One year, and he had missed so much.

Harry nodded. He could see Dumbledore's point. He had hid so much over the years, afraid of backlash, of being judged. But the Weasleys, who had been his family, his friends, who had stuck with him blindly, deserved to know the truth.

He wished Fred could know. He wished Sirius could. Tonks, Remus, Snape, Dobby, his parents too. But it was too late.

"I know you think it's too late for the 'others' to know. It is not." Dumbledore spoke.

The doors to the Great Hall opened.

* * *

"Sirius?"

"Harry!"

Harry ran towards his godfather, not caring about the shock of his audience.

"I'm s-sorry—It's my fault you're dead—if I hadn't been so reckless—if I hadn't been so stupid and believed—you would still be here!"

"I am still here," Sirius said softly, hugging his godson back, "I'm here, Harry. For real."

"Don't forget about us," Tonks said, her pink hair bouncing around her face. She was holding hands with Remus, and they were both smiling.

* * *

"Fred?"

"Hey look, you stole my face." The freckled boy grinned softly at his twin.

George was crying now. He ran towards his brother, and tackled him, to make sure he was real and he wasn't hallucinating. The two crumpled down together, in a big heap. They were soon joined by the rest of the Weasleys, all overjoyed.

George was by far the most emotional. He glanced over at his brother. "It was my face first."

* * *

Dumbledore was watching on the sidelines, wishing he could have the same happy reunion. But it was too late for him.

Too late for Severus Snape too, who was sitting on the sidelines. Nobody had come to talk to him.

* * *

Dumbledore cleared his throat, and everyone, still with tears on their cheeks, turned back to him.

He nodded towards the door, and more people entered.

"Meet James Potter, Sirius Black, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, and Peter Pettigrew—please do not murder anyone," Dumbledore added a side note as the last name was read—Ron, Sirius, and Harry had all made sudden movements.

They pursed their lips, but stopped. There was always time to kill him afterwards.

"What are we doing—oh my god it's your twin, Prongs!" the younger Sirius said.

"Uh—actually I'm his son?" Harry said, making it sound like a question.

"Lily's eyes," the younger Snape said, his voice hinting at a feeling of betrayal and sadness.

"My son! Lily's eyes! YOU DO MARRY ME! I KNEW IT." James Potter hollered.

"We're here to read books." Dumbledore cut in.

"...Do we have to?" James frowned.

"Feel free to go back if you want, if you're not interested in hearing about the adventures of your son."

"My son! Me and Lily's son!" He exclaimed again.

Lily was still too shocked and embarrassed to say anything.

"Er—hey, Mom." Same old awkward Harry.

Her reaction was quite hilarious.

* * *

"You never told us how you got back, Professor."

"Merlin spoke to me, like I spoke to you, Harry, and gave me a choice, and a chance." The answer was quite vague. quite Dumbledore-like.

"Dumbledore SPOKE to you? After he died?" Ron and Hermione said together—Harry had definitely not told them this. "You didn't tell us?!"

"Well, you'll find out anyways—if we read the books he was talking about—we should really get started." Harry desperately tried to find a loophole. Merlin was on his side today—they agreed and turned back attentively to the old professor.

"Well, let's begin."

* * *

**A/N**

**Review, maybe? ;)**

**Reviews of the first chapter are always the most important. I really hope you like it, and if you're confused, just tell me in a review and I'll add some more information in later chapters.**

**Love you all,**

**TheEvilPinkCupcake**

**:) See ya**


	2. The Boy Who Lived

**A/N**

**I'm finally back!**

**First of all, I got some reviews saying that this would be taken down due to copyright. I'm fully aware of that, but I've decided to post anyways, so you don't have to tell me that anymore but thanks for suggestions ^^**

**Second of all, this really took forever, so I hope you guys like it ^^**

**I haven't started on the next one yet because I have to practice piano for CM Test which is coming up :'( Kill me...**

**Disclaimer: All rights go to JK Rowling who is amazing. :)**

* * *

That night, Harry had the best sleep he had in months.

He was home again.

Well, his home was ruined, but he was home.

He got dressed and rushed to the Great Hall, just like it was every other Hogwarts weekend. Everyone was already there, but he was excused for being late simply because he was Harry Potter.

"I want to read first." Hermione said, and Harry grinned. The way she said it was so Hermione-ish and it reminded him of their times at Hogwarts before the war. It made him so wistful—he had grown up too much, too fast, in the past year, and though he knew it was pointless, he wished he could reverse time and go back to when he was a little innocent eleven-year-old who would stare in awe and admiration at someone doing a Levitating Spell.

Hermione reached for the first book and looked at the cover. "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone," she gave a small glance towards Harry and Ron, who were both beginning to feel nervous. "—by J.K. Rowling."

"Who?" asked Neville.

"Must be a pseudonym," Ron answered.

Hermione shot him a surprised look. "You know that word?"

"Always the tone of surprise."

And Harry grinned again. That was their line, Ron and Hermione's little inside joke.

**THE BOY WHO LIVED**

** Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.**

"I thought we were reading about Harry?" inquired the younger Sirius (who will be known as Padfoot from now on.)

"These are the Muggles he lived with," Ron replied blandly. Harry cringed and Hermione slapped him on his head for his lack of tact.

"Muggles? Why did you live with Muggles? What about us?" James asked, referring to himself and Lily.

"You were—er—_preoccupied._" Harry answered vaguely.

Lily frowned. Harry had made it sound like she and James were too busy to take care of him and carelessly dumped him on some random Muggle's doorstep. "What—we would never leave you—"

"i know, Mom." Harry said softly; the words coming out of his mother's mouth gave him a sense of love and family that he had only felt with the Weasley's. But hearing it out of your real mother was completely different. "I know."

**They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.**

"Are they ever going to tell us what they're talking about?"

Hermione sighed impatiently, "Well, if you let me read, Padfoot—maybe you'll find out."

"Padfoot? You know—" James started.

"_YES._ I KNOW. We all know. Can you all please shut up now?" Hermione was growing impatient with all these interruptions.

Ron smiled inwardly; there was his fiery Hermione.

** Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills.**

"What?"

"They're a type of metal device you can make holes with," Lily was the one who answered.

The Marauders began to grin, and alarmed, Hermione added, "They're not toys; they're very dangerous and can _kill_ you. So don't get any ideas."

** He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors.**

"Sounds like my sister." Lily mumbled.

"Ehm—it _is_ your sister." Ronald replied, earning himself another whack to the head by his girlfriend.

"Just let me read," she murmured, "they'll find out everything soon enough."

"EVERYTHING?" He roared, causing everyone to jump. "Harry, everything!"

Harry gave a little gasp as it finally hit him. EVERYTHING. All his feelings, thoughts, adventures, secrets…"EVERYTHING!"

"Oh my god—everything!" Hermione suddenly realized.

"I'm confused." said Padfoot.

** The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.**

"She's right." Fred smiled.

"What? Fred, you've seen him, he looks like mum's mashed potatoes—no offense, mum, I love your potatoes," Ron added hastily.

"There's no finer boy anywhere—there's a finer boy EVERYWHERE!"

"That doesn't even make sense." sniffed Lily, and Hermione nodded, agreeing.

James sighed exasperatedly, as if the girls were the clueless ones. "It makes total sense!"

** The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it.**

Everyone was leaning forward on their seats, in anticipation.

** They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters.**

"That's the secret?" Lavender Brown spoke for the first time. Nobody had noticed her before, and they hadn't seen her reunions with family members either. Ron suddenly felt awkward, especially when he noticed Hermione's eyes narrowing into slits.

** Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years;**

**in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be.**

"Oh." Lily said softly. "I guess she never forgives me then."

Harry gave a sad smile, "I think she did, in the end, but she never had the courage to say it." _And it was too late_, he added in his head.

** The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.**

"A child like _what_, exactly?" said James, Lily, and Molly at the same time.

Harry smiled. It was nice having people who cared about you.

** When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts,**

"I thought the story started already?"

"I guess that was just an introduction…"

"That was an extremely LONG introduction."

"No it wasn't," Hermione snapped, "That was only half a page. It only took long because of all the interruptions," she said, glaring at the Marauders and Ron.

She took her reading quite seriously.

** there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work,**

"Well that makes sense."

** and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.**

** None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.**

"How can you not notice; do you know how fat owls can be?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Not exactly how I would've worded the question, Mr. Weasley. But yes, owls are quite visible."

** At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls.**

"How come I don't remember any of this?" Harry wondered aloud.

"This must be before…you know…the 'preoccupation'." Hermione answered, using Harry's previous words.

Harry's parents looked immensely confused.

** "Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.**

"Because that seems like the perfect way to raise a child—no wonder he grew up and turned 'wrong'." Hermione sniffed angrily.

"Cut him some slack, Hermione," Harry sighed, "He did apologize in the end, and he stood up to his dad too…I think it'd be nice if he could read the books with us, it'd be good for him and I think he'd like it."

And with a poof! There he was.

"What-holy—what is going on!" The muscular boy turned and jumped, "Harry!"

Harry was gobsmacked. He had not actually meant for Dumbledore to bring Dudley here, though he had a slight feeling that the old headmaster meant to do it all along and was waiting for Harry's approval.

A thin, long-necked woman emerged, followed by a stout, obese man.

Surprise! Harry hadn't known that the entire Dursley family would be here.

"What the—boy!" Vernon Dursley gave a furious roar when he saw Harry standing there. "What is the meaning of this! I told you—I TOLD YOU I DIDN'T WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH THIS!"

Dumbledore seemed quite calm. "We are gathered here today—"

"What is this some sort of wedding?" He muttered under his breath.

Dumbledore ignored him. "—to read books about your nephew."

"WELL I'M NOT INTERESTED. WE DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOUR LOT! RIGHT, DUDLEY?"

If he had expected Dudley to agree with him, he was in for a surprise. Timidly, the teenager bowed his head and said, "Well—um, I think it'd be nice to hear about—you know, his world?"

Mr. Dursley looked like his mustache was going to fall right off, with the way his face was twitching. "Petunia?"

The woman wasn't listening. She was looking at something past the fat man, something she never thought she would see again. Or rather, someone.

"Lily?" Her voice was so soft, so unlike her usually high-pitched screech.

Lily gave no reply, just stared at her middle-aged sister.

Petunia went on, "How—?"

"Magic, of course." Dumbledore was the one who replied. "And I think, now that we're all settled—" _Far from it_, Harry thought. "—we should continue."

Vernon Dursley seemed quite reluctant, but seeing that neither his wife nor his son were willing to walk out the castle with their heads held high, he roughly sat down besides them and proceeded to listen, glaring at Harry every once in a while.

** It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar - a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen - then he jerked his head around to look again.**

"It was reading a map. I knew it." Vernon Dursley hissed, suddenly aware that he had seen magic way before he was actually involved. It disgusted him. How many more innocent people were out there, not knowing that they were living among freaks?

** There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back.**

"Sounds like McGonagall." James laughed, trying to relieve the newly-created tension.

"Don't be ridiculous, Mr. Potter."

** As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive - no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs.**

"If you're an Animagus you can!" Padfoot grinned excitedly. Sirius (the older one) looked at his younger self. It had been so long ago, he could hardly remember how happy and carefree he had been.

** Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.**

"He's stupid." someone said loudly.

Vernon Dursley whirled around so quickly, and the crack of his back sounded. "Excuse me! I am sitting right here! You'll show some respect—"

"Might I remind you," McGonagall said, trembling in anger and annoyance, "that you are sitting in a room full of wizards who will have absolutely _no problem_ in turning you into a pig, or perhaps, a toad."

Harry had never seen Professor McGonagall so 'sassy', except during his career discussion with Umbridge, and he smiled when he saw Mr. Dursley come to his senses and turn back around, disgruntled.

** But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else.**

This time, Hermione paused. "A pun!"

"What?" Ronald replied stupidly.

"You know, drills, driven…genius!" Hermione smiled widely, oblivious to the stares.

"Oh!" Lily grinned. "I get it!"

Of course, no one else did.

** As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about.**

"Yes, like him," Dean Thomas pointed out. His right eye was still black, but he seemed alright and spoke like it was any other day, "Who else would wear their most boring tie?"

** People in cloaks. **

"That's not odd at all," drawled a familiar voice, and every head whirled around to see if they were right about who had spoken.

Draco Malfoy was sitting in a corner, leaning against the wall. He was smirking, yet his eyes lacked the innocent light that had been there before, and the usual malice in his voice was missing.

"Malfoy!" snarled Ron, jumping to his feet. Within seconds, his wand was out, and so were a few others. People expected Hermione to stop him, but Harry was the one who reached out and pushed him down.

"Ron, stop," he whispered under his breath, "His mum saved my life…"

Ron sat back down, but his eyes were still squinting at the blond maliciously.

** Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes - the getups you saw on young people!**

Harry stared at the real Mr. Dursley. He saw the boy staring and gruffly snapped, "What?"

"You hate people wearing weird clothes? Did you even remember Dudley's Smeltings uniform?" Harry said, sounding quite amused.

"Dudley looked adorable in that outfit!" Aunt Petunia replied defensively.

Snickering slightly, Harry motioned for Hermione to read on.

** He supposed this was some stupid new fashion.**

"Quite the opposite actually," Remus said, but Vernon Dursley cut him off.

"Well _obviously_ you _witches _and _wizards—_" he said those words with contempt, "—aren't as smart as us _normal_ people."

"_No,_ it's because your stupid 'tach-noo-ligee' interferes with our magic—we could kill you all in a heartbeat." Draco Malfoy snarled, though his pronunciation of 'technology' got laughs from the crowd and killed the harsh and cold demeanor he attempted.

However, his words got to Vernon Dursley, and he became quiet.

** He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him!**

"THE NERVE!" bellowed Fred and George extremely loudly, and everyone laughed.

"THE NERVE!" James and Padfoot yelled right after.

"THE NERVE! " They all yelled together.

People stared. "This does not make any sense. _At all._" Lily replied.

** But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt - these people were obviously collecting for something…yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.**

"Drills are boring. Why does he keep thinking about them?" Seamus Finnigan said.

"Well, if you haven't noticed, he's quite a boring man." Harry said matter-of-factly.

Mr. Dursley turned red with anger—how dare he talk about him like that? He gave Harry a home, a place to live, he deserves respect!

** Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swoop ing past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime.**

"People should've been more careful…" McGonagall muttered, though the same thing was probably happening right now as wizards all around the globe messaged one another, having heard of Voldemort's death.

** Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more.**

"Oh how _productive,_" Ginny said sarcastically.

Everyone except Mr. Dursley caught her sarcasm and he puffed out his chest proudly.

Even Mrs. Dursley looked a bit embarrassed.

Harry grinned at Ginny.

** He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery. He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin.**

"We weren't collecting, for God's sake!" Draco Malfoy snapped.

"I didn't know that, did I?" snarled Mr. Dursley back.

Harry didn't know which side to take—he disliked both. It was ironic though, how Malfoy discriminated against Muggles and how Mr. Dursley did the exact same thing, but to wizards.

** It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.**

** "The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard yes, their son, Harry"**

** Mr. Dursley stopped dead.**

"He's dead! Woohoo!" yelled many people.

"I am right here!"

Boos flooded the Great Hall.

** Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.**

** He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. **

"What, why?" Harry asked, surprised. He had thought that his uncle would've picked up the phone and shouted whatever he thought what was going on to Aunt Petunia…

"He probably didn't want to worry her," Dean Thomas suggested.

Harry raised his eyebrows disbelievingly—the reason probably wasn't so selfless.

** He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking... no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Harry.**

"He didn't even know your name!" Hermione said furiously.

** He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold.**

"Oh my god those names are horrible; I would never name my son that!" Lily said.

"I agree! If your name was Harvey or Harold I would never date you," Ginny said teasingly.

"Is this your girlfriend?" James said, surprised.

Harry nodded and blushed. James clapped him on the back. "Good job, son!" then he whispered, "Is she a good kisser?"

Oh god.

** There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her - if he'd had a sister like that... **

"There's nothing wrong with Lily!" yelled James all of a sudden, his mood different. "She's perfect! Lily's perfect!"

Lily blushed shyly. James was actually quite sweet…

** but all the same, those people in cloaks...**

** He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.**

** "Sorry," he grunted,**

"What?" Harry yelped. "You said sorry! You never say sorry!"

"Never to _you._" he answered, scowling.

"…Harry, how bad was your childhood, really?" Hermione wondered.

"It wasn't _that_ bad."

"Harry." Ginny said it this time, "You always downplay your emotions…there's nothing wrong with opening up to people."

"…You'll find out anyways…the reading, you know…"

** as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell.**

"Tiny man? Professor Flitwick, was that you?" Hermione asked incredulously.

He nodded happily, "Oho! I remember that! I didn't know it was your uncle, Mr. Potter!" he replied joyfully.

** It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice**

"Squeaky voice? Definitely Flitwick." Draco muttered.

"Don't be a jerk, Draco." Narcissa Malfoy said softly. It was the first time she spoke, nobody had noticed her there before.

Many made reaching motions for their wands, "Death Eater!" yelled Padfoot.

"Stop! Stop!" Harry shouted over the clamor, "Don't hurt her!"

Silence. Wands were pointed straight at Narcissa, but Harry stood in front of her.

"She saved my life, okay? So…don't…don't hurt her."

Calling the audience surprised would be a severe understatement.

** that made passerbys stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"**

"Professor!" McGonagall groaned.

He only smiled sheepishly.

** And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.**

"You must have long arms," Ginny said.

** Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was.**

"A Muggle is a person without any magical talent."

"Thank you, Hermione. Thank you for telling us something we knew already." Ron commented flatly. She huffed and began reading again.

** He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.**

"All great men and women start of by dreaming and imagining," Luna said dreamily.

"NONSENSE." Mr. Dursley boomed.

"I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, and that enables you to laugh at life's realities," Luna said, with a sleepy smile on her face.

Mr. Dursley looked lost.

"You know Dr. Seuss, Luna?" Lily asked, curious.

"No, of course not," she said, "I get all my quotes from them," she pointed to air, "The Verbavisi's. They're invisible, you know, all they do is quote people everyday."

She got quite a few strange looks.

** As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw - and it didn't improve his mood - was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.**

"Also known as Professor McGonagall's glasses." James said proudly, "Hey, what would you look like if you Transformed _without_ your glasses?"

"I would be a tabby cat without those markings. A cat with very horrible vision." McGonagall replied, earning some surprised looks: who had ever heard of Professor McGonagall making a joke?

** "Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly. The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look.**

"Yep, that's her for sure!" Fred smirked, "We've seen that look tons of times!"

Padfoot smiled, "Us too! We can mimic it perfectly!"

All four of them—James, Padfoot, Fred, and George—made scowling faces, pursed their lips, and flared their nostrils.

"That was actually…quite accurate," Harry said, smiling widely.

McGonagall frowned, "That is not me at all." Then she scowled, pursed her lips, and flared her nostrils.

** Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered. **

"Of course not! But it's normal for McGonagall!" Sirius joked. His younger self looked up at him, eyes wide. Padfoot was glad that he was still so carefree and funny even after growing up.

McGonagall gave him _her _look.

** Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.**

"These people don't know the definition of family," someone said. Vernon looked outraged.

** Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!").**

"What kinds of problems? Like the kinds of problems you have with _your _son?"

"I do not have any problems with my Dudley!"

Hermione scoffed, "Oh please, you've spoiled him, you're lucky he turned out alright in the end otherwise he would've been just like you!"

"How dare you!" Vernon roared, red in the face, "I have a successful job and a wonderful family! What more could I want?!"

"A conscience?"

"A life?"

"Friends?"

"I have friends!"

Petunia cleared her throat awkwardly.

** Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:**

** "And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern."**

"Look what you are doing!" McGonagall said furiously. "Even the Muggles are figuring it out! I understand that you want to celebrate, but you must all be more careful!"

"Ah, the same thing is probably happening right now," Dumbledore commented happily.

Professor McGonagall looked quite alarmed.

** The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"**

Sirius snorted, "What a silly name—McGuffin!"

Harry grinned, _Middle-aged, and still immature._

** "Well, Ted," said the weatherman,**

"Daddy!" Tonks yelled in excitement.

"That's your dad? A Muggle newsman?"

"Yep! He gets a huge laugh from it, listening to the Muggles' explanations for what they think goes on," she grinned wistfully, "He's gone now," she became solemn, "but it's nice to know he lived a good life."

_Now that's a real example of family,_ thought Dudley.

** "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars!**

"Shooting stars! Wand sparks, I think?"

** Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early - it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."**

"What the heck is Bonfire Night?" James asked dumbly.

Lily rolled her eyes, "Exactly what it sounds like, you idiot. People go out and dance and play music and eat by bonfires. It's fun."

** Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters...**

"Oh god, if _he_ can figure it out, anyone can!"

"Excuse me?" Mr. Dursley had spoken up quite suddenly again, "I happen to have a masters degree from FDU!"

"Farting Dads University?" Fred said.

"No, no, it must be Flabby Dunderheads University!" George continued.

Harry laughed with them; it had been a long while since he had seen his uncle this angry, this humiliated—it was great.

"It is neither," Mr. Dursley paused angrily. "FDU happens to stand for Flintwood Drillmakers University—the most prestigious University for this business!" He ended proudly.

Dudley covered his face. His dad was just embarrassing himself further.

**Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er - Petunia, dear - you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"**

"Oh this should be good!"

** As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.**

"WHY?" James yowled, "LILY'S AMAZING!"

Lily jumped back in shock, but a light blush ornamented her cheeks.

** "No," she said sharply. "Why?"**

** "Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls... shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..."**

** "So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley.**

** "Well, I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... her crowd."**

"You do know," Ginny paused, smirking a very Fred-and-George smirk, "that our 'crowd' can kill you right here, right now?"

"Ginevra Weasley!"

** Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. **

"Honestly, you're supposed to be the man in the relationship!" Ron commented. Mr. Dursley looked quite embarrassed as he looked at his wife.

** Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son—he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"**

"Oh yes, how casual," Harry laughed.

** "I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.**

** "What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"**

"Oh god, that's revolting!" Ginny exclaimed.

"That's my cousin's name!" Moony yelled. "And yes, he's quite horrible." He added sheepishly.

** "Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."**

"And Howard isn't?"

** "Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."**

** He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there.**

"Professor, what _were_ you doing there?" Hermione asked.

She said nothing, but looked down at her through thin-rimmed glasses. Realization blossomed over her face and she became solemn.

"Oh..oh!"

Harry had realized too, and with a jolt, he realized that he would be hearing about his parents' deaths again. ** It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something.**

"Fish, perhaps?"

"I despise fish, Mr. Potter." McGonagall said to James.

** Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did... if it got out that they were related to a pair of- well, he didn't think he could bear it.**

"Yes, poor you, how horrible, boo-boo."

** The Dursleys got into bed.**

Padfoot gave a loud bark like laugh.

"Not like that!" Mrs. Dursley blushed to the roots of her blond hair as she caught on to what the teenage boy was thinking.

** Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. **

"I _wish_ we didn't have a reason to go near you!" James said angrily. These people were terrible…

** The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind...**

"Their kind! HUMAN, YOU MEAN?" Ginny roared..

** He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on—he yawned and turned over—it couldn't affect them… **

"Well he jinxed it," Harry sighed. He wondered what life would be like if he had actually been raised by his parents. It sounded wonderful.

** How very wrong he was.**

** Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive.**

"Oh, are we finding out why the cat is relevant now?"

"It's McGonagall, that's why! We've already established that!" Sirius said.

Many people had still been wary of Black's innocence, even after the Ministry embarrassingly published the truth two years ago after Umbridge's reign. It was too late though, and if everyone had believed the article then, they didn't exactly believe it now.

Still, Sirius' openness was making them more relaxed.

**It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.**

"How on earth are you supposed to be able to sit still for that long? Even I get jittery after a few minutes." Lily commented.

"It's McGonagall, what do you expect?" Ron replied sassily, oblivious to the glares he was now receiving from his old Transfiguration teacher.

** A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.**

** Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt.**

"DUMBLEDORE!" The Marauders plus the twins yelled.

Hermione was so startled she fell of her seat, but she quickly composed herself and continued reading.

** He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice.**

"Oh, it has been." He said good-naturedly.

** This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.**

** Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome.**

"Really? I had felt like I was being welcomed with open arms," he added, smiling at the Dursleys. It seemed to make them more uncomfortable than relaxed, and the parents avoided eye contact while Dudley looked on in amazement.

** He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street.**

"How do you do that professor? You know, feel that someone's watching you," Harry asked. Dumbledore always seemed to know things normal people didn't.

"It is a sixth sense, Harry," He smiled, "You have it too, though you didn't know it."

The Marauders and Lily looked on quietly. What had caused this hundred-something-year-old professor to treat a student with so much compassion?

** For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."**

** He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. **

"The Deluminator!" Ron suddenly remembered, "Professor, how did you—you know—that little extra thing it can do?"

Nobody except for Harry and Hermione understood. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "I will tell you when we come to that, Mr. Weasley."

Ron nodded, but when he sat back, he trembled. What would his family think of his temporary betrayal?

** He clicked it again - the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him.**

"Oh, this person is an amazing writer!" Lily gasped, "The detail, I wish _I_ could write like that…"

"I agree! You can feel the mood of the story, a suspense in the atmosphere," Hermione said, "There have been such vivid descriptions and meta—"

"Guys, shut up and keep reading." Ron muttered. "Wow, I never thought I'd say that."

** If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement.**

Padfoot gave a creepy smile, "Oho, that sounds so wrong."

Professor McGonagall turned red, "Mr. Black, I expect you to keep the atmosphere PG-13."

Muggle-borns and Half-bloods laughed while Purebloods had no idea what was going on.

**Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it. "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."**

"I TOLD YOU SO!"

"James, no one argued with you."

"…I STILL TOLD YOU SO!"

** He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone.**

Ron gasped, "Did you ditch _Dumbledore?"_

** Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes.**

"Oh, never mind," Ron smiled, embarrassed.

** She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.**

"Oh, ruffled, eh?" James smirked, "What were you doing?" He raised his eyebrows.

McGonagall simply groaned and put her head in her hands. How did she deal with them those years ago?

** "How did you know it was me?" she asked. "My dear Professor, I 've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."**

"Told you only McGonagall could do that."

** "You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.**

** "All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."**

"WHY, WHAT HAPPENED?" Fred hollered.

"OH, I CAN'T TAKE THIS SUSPENSE!" George clutched his heart dramatically.

** Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.**

"Oh look, she's doing the same thing now!"

** "Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no - even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it.**

"You were eavesdropping? McGonagall?" James asked incredulously. "We're so proud of you!"

"I _am_ a Gryffindor, Mr. Potter." she replied cheekily to everyone's amazement. They, unlike the golden trio, had not been exposed to that side of Minerva McGonagall yet.

** Flocks of owls... shooting stars... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent - I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."**

** "You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."**

"Eleven? That's how long this went on?" Lily whispered quietly.

"We'll be fine, Lily," James comforted her.

** "I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."**

"Oh, what are the Muggles going to think?!" McGonagall cried suddenly.

Her outburst shocked everyone except for Dumbledore.

** She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't,**

"What were you hoping he would say?" Harry asked curiously.

"That's not important, Potter." She shook her head, making her hat lopsided.

** so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day YouKnow-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"**

"He's gone? He's gone! What stopped him?" James asked excitedly.

Dumbledore bowed his head. "We are about to find out, Mr. Potter."

_No, we're not. _Harry thought in his head. He actually find out in sixth and seventh year, and they would have to wait just like he did.

** "It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"**

** "A what?" "A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."**

** "No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops.**

"It is always time for lemon drops. Would you like one now?" He offered Professor McGonagall, who shook her head exasperatedly. How was he able to be so wise yet so childish at the same time?

** "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone -"**

** "My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You- Know-Who' nonsense - for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort."**

"DON' SAY THE NAME!" came a loud roar from the doors.

"Hagrid!" Harry ran over and gave the half-giant a huge hug, and Hermione and Ron followed suit.

"Blimey, that was quite an entrance, Hagrid," Ron said, laughing.

"The min' I come in, I hear—the name—wha' d'ya expect me to do?"

** Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."**

"O' course you 'aven't, yer Dumbledore!"

"You flatter me, Hagrid."

** "I know you haven 't, said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."**

"That's not true anymore," Ginny said. She looked at Harry with such a fire in her eyes that made him fall in love just a bit more. This was the girl he fell in love with, this rebellious, fierce, girl.

** "You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."**

** "Only because you're too - well - noble to use them."**

"True."

** "It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."**

"Typical Dumbledore," Everyone laughed.

** Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"**

People were leaning forward in their seats. This is it, they were about to find out!

** It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now.**

"Oh, honestly, tell us already!" Fred threw a pillow at the book.

"What!" Hermione dodged it, "Where did you get a pillow?"

"Oh, I don't know, It's not like we're wizards or anything!" Sirius said sarcastically.

"Shut up you two! I want to find out!" James said, flailing his arms.

** It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true.**

"Dumbledore always tells the truth," Lily said proudly.

Suddenly the old man was hit with a violent wave of guilt as he looked at Harry. They would know soon enough.

** Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.**

** "What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are - are - that they're - dead. "**

"What?" Lily cried, her eyes beginning to tear up.

"Prongs?" Padfoot said quietly. His best friend…Moony was quiet, but the emotions he was feeling were evident on his scarred face.

"Harry." James said blankly. "We're gone…who—who takes care you?"

"You'll see." Harry said gently, "But, I'm alright. It's okay in the end."

"I don't believe this," Peter muttered, his eyes watery.

Sirius growled angrily. "You—you don't? You think you have the right—"

"Silencio!" That was Hermione. Her face was twisted; she felt their pain. "Just…wait, okay? They'll find out the truth…just…don't…spoil it…"

Sirius sat back down. He was shaking, glaring at the rat-like boy, who was partly confused and partly terrified. Remus was clenching and unclenching his fists too. What made his two best friend hate him so much?

James cast a inquisitive look at Padfoot, but he knew nothing and simply shrugged, still crying over the news of his best friend's death.

** Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.**

** "Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..."**

** Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily.**

"Nice to know you care," James said miserably.

** Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry.**

Silence.

"Did we—did we—protect you? Did we try?"

"You did, dad." Harry said, "You really did."

** But - he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy.**

"What?"

"If this is what it takes to defeat Voldemort, I'm not sure I want him defeated." Lily muttered, crying.

James' face turned hard, "No, Lily…I—Lives are always lost when there's war…but I guess, in the end, it's worth it because we helped everyone else. That's what life is. You have to make your own sacrifices for others and it's worth it, simply because that's who you love and you do everything you can to save them."

Lily looked up and stared at James silently. He had grown up so much. How had she not noticed?

** No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke - and that's why he's gone."**

"At least it's my son…"

** Dumbledore nodded glumly.**

** "It's - it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"**

"Please answer—straightforwardly, this time." Padfoot moaned.

** "We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."**

"You know." Remus said, "You knew, and you never told anyone?"

"It had to be kept quiet, Remus." Dumbledore said. "It had to. And you'll find out why."

** Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"**

** "Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"**

"Here it comes," Harry said under his breath.

** "I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."**

"You don't mean—my sister and that tub of lard?" cried Lily. "Dumbledore—you can't! I've known my sister forever, you couldn't find two people who are less like us! And they've had a son now—who is actually alright now but not back then—my son go and live there! No way!"

** "You don't mean - you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"**

"…Wow. that was almost word for word Lily. Or should I say, Professor Evans?" Padfoot said snottily. His eyes were still wet from before but he was slowly reverting to his old self, especially after James' speech.

** "It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."**

"A letter? Really, you think you can explain all this in a letter? They'll never understand him! Harry's famous—a legend—everyone knows his name—there was even going to be a Harry Potter day—Harry's in a bunch of books—honestly!" Hermione said emotionally.

** "A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous - a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future - there will be books written about Harry - every child in our world will know his name!"**

"Oh, god! Now we have a Professor Granger too!"

** "Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"**

"That's true…I'm glad you didn't turn out like him," Ron said, nodding towards Draco.

"I can _see_ you, I'm not blind, Weaselbee."

"Draco, be nice, we're…at the bottom now, you can't act like you used to." Narciss Malfoy reprimanded.

** Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes - yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.**

Harry blushed deeply, as everyone laughed at him.

"That would be a hilarious sight!"

** "Hagrid's bringing him."**

**"You think it - wise - to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"**

** "I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.**

"I would too." Harry agreed, "But not with a secret." He joked, and only the golden trio understood.

** "I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to - what was that?"**

"Sorry, Hagrid."

"I don't think we should apologize for this kind of stuff." Harry said loudly. "I mean, we all say and think things about other people," _Especially since this is probably from my point of view_, he thought, "And it's in the past anyways….so…we should just let them go."

There was a general murmur of consent in the crowd.

** A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky - and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.**

"A flying motorcycle!" Sirius gasped, his eyes shining. "That's amazing!"

** If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins.**

"Oh my god, these metaphors and similes," Ron muttered.

"That description reminds me of those gangster motorcycle drivers who were leather jackets and have tattoos and everything," Lily said.

"Well, that's so off. Hagrid's really a big softie," Harry said, laughing lightly.

** In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.**

"Harry!"

** "Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"**

** "Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sit," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."**

"It's mine! It's mine! I have a motorcycle! I have a FLYING motorcycle!"

** "No problems, were there?"**

** "No, sir - house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."**

**Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. **

The girls cooed. "That's so cute!"

"Do you have pictures?"

Harry mentally banged his head against the wall.

** Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.**

** "Is that where -?" whispered Professor McGonagall. "Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."**

"A memory of the past," Fred sighed, feigning wistfulness.

** "Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"**

** "Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well - give him here, Hagrid - we'd better get this over with."**

** Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house. "Could I - could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.**

"I love dogs!" Sirius said.

"Of course you do," James said, rolling his eyes.

** "Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"**

** "S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it - Lily an' James dead- an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles—"**

** "Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered,**

"Oh please, you were crying over us just a few minutes ago," James said highly.

"Mr. Potter, be quiet."

** patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook,**

"Awe, Hagrid…" Lily said.

** Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.**

"You know it's serious when that happens…" Sirius said seriously.

** "Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."**

** "Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall - Professor Dumbledore, sir."**

"He never got it back, did he," Harry asked Hagrid quietly.

"Nah," Hagrid said, wincing, "He 'ad gone by th' time I got back to th' house."

** Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.**

** "I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.**

"You DO care."

"Yes, I do. Now that we finally have that out of the way—Ms. Granger, go on."

** Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer.**

"I want one. Where did you get it?"

"The Deluminator is one of a kind, Mr. Black, and it is no longer in my possession," Dumbledore said.

Padfoot pouted and sat back while the golden trio grinned internally.

** He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.**

** "Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.**

"Thank you, professor," murmured Harry, "I needed it."

Lily, Petunia, and Dudley looked at him inquisitively. None of them knew exactly what his life had been like. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

** A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles,**

"Oh, I can already tell what his life is gonna be like…" James muttered miserably.

"No," Lily said quietly, shaking her head, "Tuney—she's…she's not going to let that happen." Lily ended her sentence with such a fierce determination that made Petunia Dursley look away, overwhelmed by the guilt that had been built up over the years. Her sister had so much faith in her, and she was sure that if Lily had to take care of Dudley, she would do it with a mother's love, regardless of the bad blood between them. But when she had to take care of Harry, she had shunned him and stripped him of the happy life he so deserved and needed…

** nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley...**

"Sorry," Dudley muttered under his breath. Harry smiled at him to show him that it was okay and he was forgiven.

** He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter - the boy who lived!"**

Hermione finished off with a dramatic flair and sat back.

"…Wow." James whispered. "If the first chapter was already like this, I don't know how we can get through _seven_ books…"

* * *

**A/N**

**Well, what did you think?**

**Sorry it took so long, but I tried to make it more detailed ^^**

**Hope you enjoyed it and if you had any suggestions leave it in a review. **

**ILY,**

**TheEvilPinkCupcake**


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